Forestalled
by Jacobus-Minoris
Summary: Jumping to the past, Harry believes himself prepared for any problem; but he certainly didn't see this one coming...


Disclaimer

I am neither rich or blonde or female; therefore, I am not J K Rowling, and thus do not own any part of the Harry Potter world.

Thanks to my betas, Littlewhitecat and Jacobus Senior, for casting their eyes over this.

-oooOooo-

Harry yawned as he and the other first years followed Hagrid up the stairs to the front door of Hogwarts. It had, in truth, been a tiring month. His mind wandered...

After the conclusion of the war, little had remained for Harry. Both Ron and Hermione had died in the last throes of the war, as had practically all of his friends and close aquaintances. Accompanied by a reverence close to worship, it had been enough for Harry to withdraw from the rebuilding of the wizarding world, and concentrate on managing his own affairs, and the (by now massive) combined Potter-Black estate, and the settling of his late friends affairs. Going though Hermione's papers, he had discovered her research that rendered possible travel in time, albeit as little more than soul and memories. It seemed that Hermione had been able to theorise little more beyond that point, before her death at Lucius Malfoy's hands.

Taking the research, Harry had set up the spell as detailed, and- jumped. Following his arrival back in time, he had been laying the foundations for his campaign against Voldemort. He had managed to both get the first letter, and slip out to Diagon Alley without the Dursleys noticing anything amiss. The only curious thing about the trip had been a strange amusement on the part of the Goblins. When he had asked the reason for this, they had, however, refused to answer. Harry had shrugged, and continued on with his shopping.

Aunt Petunia had seemed strangely jumpy in the week leading up to the first of September, though, and had certainly been a lot less surprised than Uncle Vernon when Harry had bidden them a cheery goodbye before departing for platform nine-and-three-quarters.

At the platform, Harry had, oddly enough, seen nobody he knew, which had also been the case at Diagon Alley. Puzzling over it for a minute, he had dismissed the thought, and continued with his mental planning for the next few years. And now, here he was, with the other first years, heading towards the front doors, which creaked open to reveal-

- a stern old battleaxe of a lady, who was, however, most emphatically _not _Minerva McGonagall. She was quite as strict, and said much the same things, however, before leaving them in the chamber off the entrance hall. At which point-

"So, Draco, what chances do you think for Puddlemere this year? They'll have to do better than that pathetic performance last season!" said Ron Weasley. Harry nearly fainted from shock, not least because Neville Longbottom, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and a number of others promptly joined in, while he distinctly heard Hermione snort something about boys and quidditch nearby. At this point, the lady-who-wasn't-McGonagall returned, and shooed away the ghosts, who had been ignored in the increasingly heated discussion of Puddlemere's chances, much to their annoyance.

Following the lady, the first years entered the Great Hall, and if Harry had found the idea of Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy having a reasonably civil conversation bizarre, this was the point at which he began to consider changing his name to Alice. For, glancing at the staff table, he inadvertently caught Snape's eye, and Snape inclined his head, and raised his goblet in a small but definite toast. Worse still, Snape was resting his hand in the hand of a lady, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Lily Potter. Worst of all, Dumbledore was completely absent from the table, and sitting in his throne-like chair was McGonagall.

Stunned, Harry barely noticed the first part of the sorting, though he noted Draco being sorted into Gryffindor with more than a little surprise, and even more so the cheering from the _Weasleys _of all people. And shortly after that-

"Potter, Harry!"

Ignoring the whispers that swept the Great Hall, Harry stepped forward and donned the sorting hat.

_"_Ah, Mr. Potter! Finally!"

_Pardon?_

_"_I've a message for you, young man, and I've to sort you into the bargain! So where to start..."

_Message from who?! _

_"_Your daughter and grand-daughter, of course!"

_Come again?_

"Well, now, I know you destroyed your friend's research when you bounced from your time, but your jump made a second time. In that one, more people survived, and you had children, but you still jumped in the end. But that time, you left the papers behind. Your daughter discovered them, and decided to jump as well. But she jumped corporeally, and wound up in the seventies. The Potters took her in, which makes her officially your aunt, she made... improvements to the course of the war, and things were better. She's actually one of the potions professors."

_So why is Snape dribbling over her?_

_"_Well, they're married. It's practically expected."

Harry shuddered. _Snape's my son-in-law?!_

"Uncle, actually. And if you think that's bad...because your daughter made a third time, in which you had grandchildren by one of your sons. Only one of them was intensely fond of her fearsome Aunt Lily, and when she came into possession of her aunt's papers, decided to join her, and help out. Only she wound up jumping even further back, to the twenties. She joined the fight against Grindelwald, and wound up as one of Dumbledore's henchwomen."

_Don't tell me she's a professor as well!_

"You're out of luck; she's the deputy headmistress, and led you in."

_That old battleaxe?_

"Yes, and do be careful. She married one of your great uncles, so..."

Harry considered this. _Eeww! _ he said, with all the dignity of an eleven year old.

"It's quite within the tables of consanguinity, you know."

_Only because they never considered the possibility of it occurring in the first place! And how come McGonagall is headmistress anyway? Where's Dumbledore?_

"He's dead, I'm afraid." Taking Harry's stunned silence as permission to continue, the hat gave him a rough summary of how Harry had wound up with the Dursleys, which had been a result of Dumbledore acting on his own. "No one else knew where you were, and it resulted in a major set of arguments between him, and...well, practically everybody, really."

_So why didn't someone just retrieve me? Surely my family remembered the Dursleys!_

"Major set of forgetfulness charms, sealed and hidden records which still haven't shown up, and a complete unwillingness to share any information with anyone, including the various Potters. The end result was a violent argument with Lily and Dahlia Agatha-"

_Who?_

"Your great aunt, and don't interrupt, we're heading for the longest sorting on record as it is." Now the hat mentioned it, Harry _could _hear muffled whispers in the Great Hall. "Anyway, things got so heated that Dumbledore had an apoplexy and died on the spot. So you can stop worrying about how much to tell him. McGonagall, your daughter and granddaughter, and assorted family know everything, anyway."

_And the horcruxes?_

_"_All gone, apart from you. And that will be changing after tonight, when your relatives do a ritual to get it out. Which _finally _brings me to the message I was asked to pass on. Which is that both your daughter- who's your aunt- and your granddaughter- who's your great aunt- both got a good look at your school records at various points. And what they saw, they did not like. So..."

_You try maintaining your scores with a psychopath after you!_

_"_Yes, except the philosopher's stone is safely elsewhere, Myrtle's bathroom is blocked off, Sirius is not in Azkaban and Pettigrew is dead, the headmistress is damned before she'll allow the triwizard anywhere near the school, and that sorts the other three years."

_Sirius is out of Azkaban?_

"Never in it, and as the Malfoys are dead, he's bringing up Draco. He's desperate to meet you, but the point is, that you are to buckle down to your studies, or else your female descendants are going to be _highly _annoyed." Harry whimpered.

"Which brings me to why you're actually wearing me, which is to announce to the world, that you belong in **GRYFFINDOR! **Good luck, Mr. Potter."


End file.
